Lights Will Guide You Home
by A Phrase That Cuts These Lips
Summary: Kurt thought that breaking up with Blaine was the right thing to do, but it's only three years later after a chance meeting at a bar in New York that they realize just how much of a mess they are without one another. Future!fic.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This has been sitting in my unfinished fics folder (most of which will never see the light of day) since before the boys even got together, but I finally dusted it off and finished/edited it in the last couple of days. I'm pretty proud of it, so I thought I'd share. It's my first time posting smut, too, albeit tame smut, so… eep? Lalala I don't know what I'm doing~

I'm absolutely not abandoning the bodyswap fic, by the way - I know it's been forever, and I'm so sorry! I'm at a bit of a stuck point at the moment. Trying to figure out what happens next. If you guys have any suggestions… hahaha.

Comments are like crack to me~

**Warnings: **Swearing, excessive angst, and sexytimes in chapter two.Also a minor OC. I don't know where he came from. He wouldn't go away.**  
><strong>I obviously don't own Glee, or Kurt or Blaine. Title stolen from 'Fix You' by Coldplay. Yep, it's totally cliche, don't judge me.

* * *

><p><em>and high up above or down below<br>when you're too in love to let it go  
>but if you never try you'll never know<br>just what you're worth  
>lights will guide you home<br>and ignite your bones  
>and i will try to fix you.<em>

The bar is dark and dirty, the kind of dirty that makes your skin crawl the moment you walk in. For some reason Kurt finds himself here at least one evening a week, dragged along by the other members of the theater troupe, who insist that he needs to socialize. The other regular patrons don't even notice his flamboyant clothes anymore, which irritates him to no end – the whole place irritates him, really, but what can you do.

"First round is on me!" Aaron calls out, receiving a happy cheer from the other eight performers who have tagged along this time. They sit down at a table in the corner, but Kurt goes the other way, taking a seat at the bar and ordering a drink. He's not surprised when one of the members of their little group, a shorter guy with a powder-puff of bright red hair perched on top of his head, follows him cautiously.

"You're not going to join us?" He asks hopefully. Derek is twenty-one old, though he looks and sounds younger, without a doubt gay though he isn't out of the closet, and most likely in love with Kurt. He's sickeningly adorable, and Kurt is almost disappointed to find that the kid is far from his type (even with absurdly curly hair.) It would be the easiest thing in the world to fall for him, but he just can't. He knows that he'll break Derek's heart one day without meaning too, so he tries to keep him at a distance.

"Not really in the mood." Kurt doesn't look at him. They go through this exact conversation every week, as if they're rehearsing the lines for their next musical. Sometimes Kurt actually does make an effort to socialize with them, and he knows exactly what will happen, if he does: they will gossip about the other actors behind each other's backs, they will rant about how amazing their current project will be, everyone will drive home drunk. Someone will get emotional and tell the rest of the group how much he or she loves them all, how they're like another family, and this will make Kurt angrier than it should as he wonders what on earth he's doing with these people. _No, _he wants to say. _No, we're not a family. Outside of the theater, we don't even know each other. I've had a second family, and it is nothing like this. _Because as dysfunctional and dramatic New Directions had been, no matter how sometimes none of them really _liked _each other, they had _loved _each other. That was a family. Not this.

It's better for him to just ignore them all outside of work, so that he can be on stage with these people and not hate their guts for no real reason.

"O-okay. I'll see you around, then." Derek smiles brightly and practically skips away, Kurt's coldness bouncing right off of him. Kurt is halfway tempted to leave – he doesn't really need a ride home, his apartment is only a few blocks away – but then his drink arrives, and he feels obligated to finish it first.

He doesn't know why he comes here. At first, it distracted him from himself, but lately it just makes him think more. It's not like this tiny, dirty Manhattan bar is in any way connected to his past or his friends, but it makes him think about them. Not _miss _them, exactly, though there's always some of that in the back of his mind. It's just nostalgia, he supposes. He had hated high school, but all of the happiest times had happened them as well.

A particularly loud giggle from Derek makes Kurt glance up automatically, but his eyes don't fall on the table his not-really-friends sit at. They fall a few feet to the left, to a short-ish guy with curly dark hair, wearing a white V-neck and jeans held up with suspenders, all underneath an unbuttoned black blazer. Those suspenders look familiar, sparking a memory Kurt likes to keep buried. He tries to distract himself from the suspenders and instead takes a glance at the man's face.

_Oh._

Time freezes. Kurt is sure of it. The chatter of the people around him dissolves, everything but the boy – no, not a boy anymore, a man – his eyes have landed on. There is nothing in the world but the two of them.

_This isn't possible, _Kurt thinks, staring at that familiar face. _This isn't happening. He is not here._

But there's no mistaking him, Kurt would recognize that face anywhere. Every time he passes a guy with curly, dark hair on the street he automatically thinks he's seeing Blaine, but this is the first time it's really been him. Everything moves slowly, like a dream, as he wonders what he's supposed to do now. Does he talk to him? Does he run away and hide? All those half-hopeful daydreams about seeing Blaine again, and now he has no idea what to do. He grips his drink tightly in his hand, frozen like a deer in the headlights.

Then Blaine looks up, right on cue, as if this is just a performance and they are just two actors on stage, and he looks straight at Kurt. Reality comes rushing back, and Kurt looks away, downing his drink in one gulp and keeping his eyes fixed on the bar in front of him. His heart pounds and his stomach twists and it feels an awful lot like stage fright, like if Blaine does recognize him and walks over, he won't know what to say.

He hears footsteps that are still familiar after three years, and shuts his eyes tight.

"…Kurt? Kurt _Hummel_?"

He glances up, and of course, Blaine is standing there, looking like he can't quite believe what he's seeing. "Oh my god," Kurt says, because now it's _real. _He takes a deep breath to calm his nerves. And then he doesn't know what to say. He stands there gaping like a fish, and it's absurd, because one of the things he's best at when performing is improvising if he forgets what he's supposed to do next. He'll think something up on the spot that everyone else can just go with. Now? He can't even say hello.

"I can't believe it." Blaine lets out a little laugh and runs his hand though his hair, which is still short, but no longer slicked back the way he wore it in high school. "Sorry, I don't mean to be all awkward. Just didn't expect to see you here." _Or anywhere, ever again, _his eyes say.

"Likewise!" Kurt hates how breathless he sounds, but he can't help it. He gestures toward the empty stool next to him, and Blaine nods and sits down, his eyes never leaving Kurt. "Small world."

"Can I buy you a drink or something?" Blaine asks hesitantly. He seems as nervous as Kurt feels which is both good and bad.

"Vodka." Kurt replies immediately. Blaine raises his eyebrows, but orders two shots anyway. Kurt doesn't drink hard liquor as a rule, but right now, he feels like he'll need it. He downs the drink in one gulp, relishing the burning in his throat. He understands why some people call it 'liquid courage' now, because while it _shouldn't _help, it does. Blaine takes a sip of his drink, wrinkles his nose in distaste, coughs a little, and sets it back down. It's kind-of-extremely cute, but Kurt wishes that it wasn't. Neither of them speak for a few moments, but it's Blaine who breaks the silence.

"How are you?" He asks, putting an elbow on the bar and resting his chin in the palm of his hand as he watches Kurt. Later on, Kurt will look back and laugh at how much this looks and sounds like the beginning of a romantic comedy, something cliché, about two high school sweethearts meeting by chance years later. For now, he calmly answers the question.

"Surviving," he says, because that's the only word to describe his current existence. He has work full time and the theater part time part time and working on his fashion design degree part time (although it's summer now, so he's got a few moments here and there to relax) and distracting himself from memories and unwanted thoughts the rest of it, so there's no room for much _but _survival. "And you?"

The sharp, bitter sound Blaine makes is not quite laughter. "Let me get back to you on that when I know."

"Fair enough."

Blaine shifts around and clears his throat. "You, uh, you look good. If that's not weird to say."

Well, fuck. Of course it's weird. Everything about this, Blaine even being here, is _weird._ Kurt shakes his head, a light smile touching his lips. "It's fine. And thank you. Glad to see someone still appreciates my fabulousness."

"The world would be a much darker place without it."

"True. You do too, by the way. Um. Look good, that is." Blaine just smiles and Kurt is flustered, and for one second he feels seventeen again, which is both wonderful and terrible. He wishes that he had another drink, wishes that this encounter had happened anywhere but this shitty place. "Let's take a walk," he blurts out.

Blaine looks skeptical and pleased all at once. "Really?"

_No. Not really. _He doesn't know what 'taking a walk' will entail, or what he even means by it, all he knows is that he's terrified. However, Kurt is a very good actor. "Might as well." He shrugs.

"Yeah. Okay. Sure." Blaine pays for the drinks and stands up. Kurt doesn't bother saying goodbye to Aaron and the other actors as they leave. Derek is the only one who will notice his absence anyway.

They fall into step beside each other easily, an act perfected by months of holding hands as they strolled down the hallways of Dalton Academy and McKinley High, but now they keep their hands far away from each other, Kurt's in his pockets and Blaine's gripping the strap on the over-stuffed messenger back he carries, sometimes so hard that his knuckles turn white. Kurt doesn't let himself waste any thoughts on wondering why. He is thankful when Blaine strikes up a conversation first, because he has _no idea what to say. _The topics drift from college, to work, to a musical they both happen to have seen recently, to movies and books. They don't really talk about anything personal. Suddenly Blaine is as much a mystery to him as he was that very first day, when a stranger grabbed Kurt's hand, insisting that he knew a shortcut. He needs to know something, at least, something to remind him that Blaine did not remain nineteen when they parted, that he has something like a life now too. "Are you living in New York now?" He quickly changes the subject.

"Kind of. Not really. I'm not sure yet." He shrugs. "Technically I live in California, still, but I'm barely ever there, so… who knows."

Kurt can't help but tense up at the mention of California, and wonders if it's reasonable to harbor a grudge against a particular state. "Work? College?"

"Haven't finished college yet. Maybe some time." He laughs. "I busk on street corners a lot. My life is a complete mess, to be honest."

"And here I expected you to disappear to some Ivy League school and take over the family business or something. Isn't that what's expected of Dalton alumni?" He teases. It's weird how easy it is to talk to him, still.

Blaine shrugs. "Well, if you remember correctly, I didn't graduate from Dalton," he points out. That's true - he had transferred to McKinley for senior year. "But yeah, that's what Mom and Dad assumed, too. Well, you know them." Kurt just nods. Blaine's parents are good enough people, but overbearing, pushing their son to be an overachiever. "And maybe I will, at some point. I guess I just wanted to try… I don't know… _living, _for a while. Before I plan out the rest of my life." He realizes that the conversation has gotten slightly too serious, and asks a question of his own. "So, you're acting now? Saw a poster for the new play," he explains.

"Oh. That. Yeah, I guess. It's no big deal." Kurt blushes.

"Now, _that's _not the Kurt Hummel I know. Lead role, right? It's totally a big deal."

"No," Kurt says, a little more coldly than he intended. "It's really not."

Blaine takes the hint and doesn't say anything more about it. They walk in silence for a little longer, until Kurt sits down on a bench. Blaine sits down on the other end, bites his lip, fidgets. Kurt is almost glad to see that he looks as nervous as he feels. "I'm probably being way too nosy. But. Can I keep asking you questions?" He laughs a little. "It's weird. Not knowing what's been going on with you. But you can say no."

"Only if you answer them back." Kurt raises his eyebrows. He has to admit that he's curious about Blaine, too. They were always supposed to know everything about each other, be best friends even if they weren't lovers. It hadn't happened.

"Still in touch with New Directions?"

"Try to be." New Directions is not an easy topic of discussion for him - he misses them so much, sometimes. "Mercedes is in Chicago, finishing up school. Quinn and Puck get engaged and break up every other week. He shrugs, looking down at the ground. "Finn is still in Lima. In college, but he doesn't want to leave his hometown yet. I guess I need to call everyone else soon, I'm not sure what they're up to. Rachel and I have an apartment together like we always planned."

Blaine grins. "Of course you do. I figured you'd never give up on that."

_You should be there, _Kurt thinks bitterly. The plan had always been for the three of them to move in together, but then California had happened, and the breakup. But it's not as if he can talk about that. And how is Rachel?"

"Good, I think. Finally gave up on Finn, long distance wasn't working, and she's a lot happier for it."

"Good for her."

Kurt nods. "What about the Warblers?" He hasn't even tried to keep in touch with them. They 'like' each other's statuses on Facebook occasionally, but that's it.

"Nah. They're too busy with Ivy League schools and inheriting the family business and all of that. I have lunch with Wes and David every six months or so to talk about the good old days and how we'll be BFF's forever, and then we forget about each other for the rest of the year." He does nothing to hide the bitterness in his voice, and Kurt feels so lucky that, even though he himself is a terrible friend, most everyone else in New Directions cares enough to at least send a mass email on a regular basis, just to let everyone know how they are. Blaine seems to contemplate his next question for a moment before speaking again. "You don't have to answer this, but… boyfriends?" He says it so quickly that Kurt thinks he misheard. "Have you had any, I mean?"

Kurt swallows, suddenly nervous. "A few." _Quite a few, _he corrects himself silently. Kurt had fully embraced the so-called 'college experience' after breaking it off with Blaine, losing himself in studying and partying and boys and boys and _boys._ "Nothing particularly serious." _No one I actually cared about _he thinks_, but I still cried when I inevitably broke it off. _He never cried for himself, though, breaking up with those boyfriends was a relief more than anything else. Maybe he just feels bad for hurting them – he's keeping his distance from Derek because he doesn't want to hurt him, after all. "But I'm not seeing anyone at the moment," he adds as an afterthought, then cringes, because wow, _that _doesn't make him sound desperate _at all. _Who he's seeing isn't really Blaine's business anymore. "You?"

"Just one. Until a few months back. Plus a couple one-night stands I'm not particularly proud of," he adds. Blaine is nothing if not inappropriately honest. Kurt doesn't want to hear about one-night stands, doesn't want to think about one-night stands, especially doesn't want the words _Blaine _and _one-night stand _in the same sentence, and if that makes him a hypocrite, so be it.

"Were you together long?"

Blaine shakes his head. "Not really. Not as long as you and I…" He stops, and Kurt holds his breath. _Not as long as we were, _Kurt wants to finish, but neither of them complete the sentence. If they acknowledge that they were together once, that they were _so_ in love, that Blaine would have _married _Kurt if only he'd asked – if they acknowledge that, they have to face it and _that _is scary. "I'm over it." Blaine says instead. "We just weren't right for each other. We're just friends now, so it's okay."

It isn't meant to make Kurt guilty, but it does anyway. _We could have been friends, and it would have been okay. _But no. He's too stubborn and too scared and too much of an idiot.

Blaine looks down at his watch, this expression on his face one of genuine disappointment and confliction. "I'm going to be late," he mumbles, glancing over at Kurt. "I have to go, but… Kurt… can I see you again?"

Blaine actually _wants _to see him again. This baffles Kurt to no end. For a moment, he can only stammer, and Blaine looks both amused and worried. Finally, he breathes, "Of course you can."

"Great." Blaine stands up, really smiling now. "Great. Really great."

"I can be at that bar tomorrow evening. Same time." He wonders if that's being too hasty or pushy, but the other boy doesn't seem to mind.

"I'll be there." They don't say goodbye, and Kurt loves that. Goodbye means something is ending, but that's not what's happening now. This is a beginning – to what, he both dreads and anticipates finding out.

**.**

"I honestly don't know who he thinks he is, telling me _my _voice is sharp when the girl who actually got the part couldn't carry a tune to save her life. Can you believe it?"

Mmhm." Kurt replies absently. He's used to these rants from Rachel, but he can't really be bothered to, you know, actually pay attention. He's too distracted. And with good reason.

"Kurt. You haven't been paying one bit of attention." Rachel accuses.

"I'm sorry. I guess I just have a lot on my mind." He pulls a sweater out of his closet, wrinkles his nose, and shoves it away.

"Anything you'd like to share?" Rachel leans forward from where she perches at his desk chair.

Kurt hesitates, trying to judge how much his best friend will freak out when he tells her. "I kind of sort of saw Blaine yesterday." He mumbles.

He flinches when she shrieks, "YOU WHAT?_"_

"Ow! Nothing _happened. _Not really. It's not a big deal."

"I can't believe you kept this from me all evening! Details. Now." He tells her the entire story, about running into him at the bar and going for a walk and their entire terrifying, awkward conversation (or what he can remember of it.)

"And he had to leave after that, but first he said, and I quote…" He clears his throat. "'Can I see you again?'"

"Oh my god."

"Right? What does that even mean?"

"So are you going to? See him again, that is?"

Kurt nods. "Tonight, actually."

"Get me his number. I miss him."

"I'll try."

Rachel watches him thoughtfully. "Do you still have the ring he gave you?"

"No." He lies. He'd meant to throw it away when they broke up. He keeps it in his pocket – almost hoping he'll lose it by accident - and he still wears it, sometimes. Kurt sighs and flops down on his soft bed, staring up at the ceiling. "It's all so… weird."

"Good weird or bad weird?"

"I'm not sure…" Kurt bites his lip. Blaine has been on his mind all day, and he's gone from being excited, to nervous, to considering the option not even meeting up with him that night at all, and then back to excited again, over and over until he's just a mess of emotion. "I think it… _could _be good? Or it could be really bad. Like, the worst thing ever. That's it. I'm not going."

"Don't be ridiculous, of course you're going."

"…You're right, of course. I just… I don't know what to do or say, or what _he_ expects… I don't even know what I'm going to _wear. _Help me!" He wails, too distraught to realize he's asking _Rachel Berry _for fashion advice.

"I suppose that all depends on what _your _intentions are. Are you trying to win him back?"

Kurt slowly sits up on his bed, his stomach suddenly in knots. "I… I don't _know._" His voice is barely more than a whisper. "I don't even know if I want to – god, what am I saying, of course I _want _to– but – oh my god, what am I doing, Rachel?"

"Okay, calm down -"

"I can't screw this up. I've screwed _everything _ else up, I can't - I can't let this happen again. What if he hates me?"

Rachel sighs, considering this for a moment. "What have you got to lose? If it doesn't work out, you're back to square one. If it does, you'll be happy again." If it were anyone but Rachel, he would have contradicted them, claiming that of course he's happy, but he can't lie to her. She lives with him, they're practically family by this point, and she knows him better than anyone else in New York (besides Blaine, now.) "Try to be friends first, and see where that goes. Just… don't hurt him."

Kurt remains silent.

"You breaking up with him really killed him, Kurt. You didn't see him after, you have no idea."

He doesn't tell her that he knows exactly what Blaine was feeling then. It's what he's feeling now that's the problem. "It killed me too," he says softly.

"But at least you knew why you did it. He got left in the dark."

Kurt remains silent. The truth is, he _doesn't _know. He knows that, at the time, it felt like the best thing to do, but he can't narrow it down to one specific reason.

"For the record, I hope you do get back together." Rachel continues. "Maybe then you can stop sleeping around."

"I don't sleep around," Kurt says automatically, though he knows its useless arguing with her. "I always date them first."

"You _used_ to date them first," she corrects. He can't really deny that.

**.**

Just like the day before, Kurt abandons his fellow actors at the bar – he knows he's there a few minutes early, but he hopes to get a drink in him so that he's less likely to have a nervous breakdown when Blaine arrives. Just like the day before, Derek follows him as he sits down at the bar, smiling widely.

"I can't sit with you guys tonight, sorry," he says before the smaller boy can open his mouth. He puts his hand in the pocket of his coat, feeling the old ring there. Somehow, it gives him courage.

"Okay." Derek isn't distressed by this at all. "How come?"

"Well –"

"Hey, Kurt."

Both of them turn around. Blaine is there, a small smile on his face, and before Kurt can stop himself, he smiles too, the most genuine smile he has given anyone in a long time. "Hey," he breathes, staring up at Blaine. And damn it, just like that, he is smitten again, not that her ever really stopped being smitten.

Still, it would be easier if he weren't.

"Oh, um, this is Derek." He introduces, after a few moments of awkward silence. The red-head beams up at Blaine, shaking his hand quickly. "He works at the theater."

"Oh, do you act, too?" Blaine asks, politely curious.

Derek's eyes widen, and he shakes his head. "Oh, no. I just make the costumes." He smiles at Kurt and then steps away. "Nice meeting you. See you at work, Kurt." He hurries away, and Blaine takes a seat at the bar.

"He seems… nice." Blaine raises his eyebrows. Kurt just shrugs and orders them a drink. Not vodka, this time, but some cheap kind of wine.

"Yeah. He's in love with me." He doesn't mean to add that last bit, but it's not as if it makes a difference. Blaine doesn't reply. Their drinks come. Blaine sips his delicately while Kurt gulps his in three long swallows. He's not an alcoholic, far from it. It just… helps, sometimes.

The silence is awkward, and Kurt wonders, more than once, what he's _doing _here, what Blaine is doing here. Blaine has every right to be mad at him, even after two and a half years, but he doesn't really look angry. He's just quiet, and thoughtful, and yeah, maybe a little bit sad, but Blaine is still as good at putting up walls around himself as he was as a teenager. Kurt is just better at seeing through them than most.

That was what they always were to each other – the only ones who really got it. The only ones they couldn't lie to.

"It's good to see you again," Blaine finally says, shooting a quick glance Kurt's way.

"I'm glad."

"It's not too weird, is it? Wanting to see you?"

"You've got to stop doing that. Talking about how awkward and weird we are. It's definitely weird," Kurt assures him, smiling softly, the words coming forth in a short burst of courage. "But weird can be good, right?"

"I certainly hope so." Now he smiles for real, the kind that makes Kurt want to hug him and never let go. He barely resists the urge, but god, now that the idea is in his head; he wants to hold Blaine so badly. Or be held. It doesn't matter. Just some kind of contact.

He keeps his hands to himself. Rachel, who has grown far more mature in the ways of relationships since breaking it off with Finn for good, had suggested that he try to befriend Blaine again before he even thinks about trying to get back together. Blaine had been his best friend before his lover, and even while dating, they hadn't lost that initial connection, the one that kept Kurt going through every little fight - the simple thought that if he lost Blaine, he would lose his best friend in the entire world.

If he could get that bond back, it could even be better than being his boyfriend again. Maybe he would even be satisfied with other boys.

"How do you like New York so far?" Kurt asks.

"Oh, I love it. I can't wait to see more. Can I tell you a secret?" Blaine leans forward, and says conspiratorially, "I _hate _Los Angeles."

Kurt can't help it. He laughs.

"It's so _awful, _you don't even know - ugh, there aren't even words. Once I figure out where I want to stay, I'm transferring. In a flash."

"I told you, I _told you._"

"I know!" Blaine groans, smiling as he does it. "You had the right idea all along. New York or bust."

"I'll toast to that." Kurt raises his glass. "And I now fully expect to see you at NYU next semester."

Blaine snorts. "Yeah, I wish. Mom and Dad are helping me out with school when I get back on my feet, but I have to deal with housing on my own. Like I could afford New York. I guess I could live in my car."

Kurt laughs again at that. "Right? Our apartment is kind of a shithole and we still can hardly afford it. It is three-bedroom, though, so we really should try to find another roommate." Kurt doesn't mean to keep talking, but his mouth goes right along without his brain. "You could always…well. I don't know."

"…yeah?" Blaine prompts.

"Well, just - if you needed - I'm not saying you'd have to move in, not that you couldn't, but - if you needed a place to stay. For a little while. Whatever. I'm going to stop talking now."

"…huh." Blaine watches him, curious and thoughtful, and Kurt blushes furiously under his gaze, shifting uncomfortable. The silence comes back, more awkward than ever, and Kurt wonders if he just ruined _everything _with his forwardness. Then Blaine laughs, so softly that Kurt hardly hears him.

"God, I missed you," Blaine whispers. Kurt doesn't care that he probably wasn't meant to hear that, he looks up anyway, looks into Blaine's eyes. He looks so _sad, _even with the soft smile playing across his features. Bittersweet_. _"But look at you. You're acting and singing like you always wanted, you've got boyfriends left and right, you're still in touch with your friends. You've got everything you need. You probably haven't had time to miss me."

"I don't have everything I need." Kurt says quietly. He should be more grateful, because to an outsider, his life isn't bad. And anything is better than Lima, Ohio. But it still doesn't feel like enough. There's a huge hole in his life he doesn't know how to fill. "And I did miss you." The night after they broke up, Kurt had curled up on the floor of his father's room, next to his mother's old dresser, and breathed in the fading scent of her perfume, and thought of ten different things he wished he'd told Blaine first. He'd never cried over a boy that hard before, not even over Finn, and never had since.

Blaine just looks at him. "Did you, really?"

And wow, how could you make the situation _that _much heavier with only three words. Kurt decides that he's far too sober for this and orders tequila, this time. _So much. _Kurt replies in his head. There are some days when he doesn't miss him, convinces himself that this is better. There are some days when he just forgets. But usually he misses him more than anything else in the world. Kurt still thinks about Blaine when he's with his other boyfriends, though he'll never admit it.

Before Kurt can reply, Blaine shakes his head and tries to laugh. "Don't answer that."

"Would you rather think I didn't?" Unconsciously, his hand clenches around the ring in his pocket.

"Maybe."

"Sorry to disappoint you, then."

Blaine looks like he's not sure what to make of that. Kurt doesn't realize that he's taken his hand out of his pocket, fiddling with the ring right there in front of him, until Blaine's eyes fall on his hands. His expression is unreadable, and Kurt is sure that this is the very moment when he ruins everything.

"You kept it." Blaine says quietly. His breath sounds a little shaky, and he takes a long drink of his barely-touched wine. Kurt has now been through two shots of tequila. "Do… do you still wear it?"

Kurt keeps his eyes on the simple silver ring in his hand. It isn't an engagement ring – neither of them had been ready for that back then – but a promise ring, given to him in between gentle, delicate kisses, and whispers of _"I love you," _and _"I'll wait for you, as long as you need," _and _"Forever." _For some reason that had seemed more beautiful to Kurt than any gaudy diamond engagement ring, maybe slightly less perfect that a wedding band. "Only when I'm trying to convince unwanted suitors that I'm 'taken'." He smiles without any humor. "And when I'm feeling particularly self-loathing."

"Kurt, what happened?" Blaine asks. Kurt knows, in his heart, this question was always going to come. He still isn't prepared for it, and can't find an answer. "I'm serious. You never told me what went wrong with… us. What _happened_?"

"What difference does it make now?"

"I can't change whatever is wrong with me unless I know what it is. I know I was a terrible boyfriend, but –"

"You were not a terrible boyfriend!" Kurt gapes at him. "You were _perfect. _You were the best boyfriend I could dare to hope for. I've avoided so many terrible guys because I know the difference between someone who will treat me right and someone who won't. That's all because of you."

Blaine takes another drink. "I'm _so _glad to hear _that._ Thanks, Kurt."

"I didn't mean – Blaine, that's not fair."

"No, really. I'm glad you're so happy."

"I'm _not _happy." Kurt snaps. "I'm fucking _miserable, _okay?"

"Is that supposed to make me feel better? Kurt, why can't you tell me what I did wrong?"

Kurt almost wishes that he would yell. He's obviously upset, but he's so _quiet, _and that's almost worse. He feels his throat clench, threatening tears. "You didn't do _anything_ wrong."

"'It's not you, it's me'?"

Kurt nods. "Yes! Exactly!"

Blaine looks him straight in the eye. "That is bullshit."

Hearing Blaine swear is always strange, but hearing him swear _at Kurt _is even worse. "Well it's the truth," he snaps back. "So stop being unreasonable."

"I'm not being unreasonable!"

"Yes you are! I thought we could have a civil conversation, but you're already picking a fight with me!"

"I don't _want _to fight."

"Then stop!"

Blaine looks away, taking a deep, shaking breath. "It's not unreasonable," he says slowly, trying to be calm, "to ask you something I've been wanting to know for years. Even if you don't want anything to do with me, you owe me that much."

Kurt swallows. He's right, of course, damn him, but he doesn't _have _an answer that he would be satisfied with, let alone one that he can give Blaine without feeling like a complete asshole. But Blaine is waiting, so he whispers, "I don't _know._"

Blaine laughs, a little. "You don't know. Isn't that just like you."

Anger flashes through him, and Kurt straightens in his chair. "You seriously have to stop it with the sarcasm. It wasn't easy for me, okay?" He snaps. "It was probably the hardest decision I've ever made in my _life, _and fuck, I'm still not sure about it, so don't talk to me like that."

"Now who's being unreasonable?"

"Do you have any idea how hard it was, how much courage it took to let you go?"

Blaine snorts. "And we both know how 'courage' always turns out for you, right?"

"Go fuck yourself, Blaine!"

Blaine is standing up and walking away almost before Kurt finishes the sentence, and he doesn't look back. Kurt stares after him, his chest heaving and eyes stinging. The few people sitting at the bar fall silent, glance his way warily, before going back to their drinks. He has a feeling that Derek is watching him, but he doesn't care.

"Fuck," he mutters to himself, burying his face in his hands. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck_."

**.**

He wanders back home a little later, a little drunk and a lot miserable, and he's not sure if it's good or bad that Rachel is waiting up for him. She wraps him up in a hug the instant she sees him, whispering, "Oh, honey, I'm so sorry."

"I'm such an idiot," he moans. "I'm so fucking stupid, Rachel."

"What happened?"

He shakes his head, pulling away from her and rubbing away the tears forming in his eyes. "He hates me and he has good reason to and it's all my fault."

"I'm sure it's not _all_ your fault."

"I love him," he croaks.

"I know."

"I love him so much and I hurt him so badly."

Rachel takes him by the hand, and he lets her drag him to his bedroom. "You need to sleep," she insists. "It'll all make more sense in the morning."

He mumbles something unintelligible even to him, and collapses on his bed without even changing his clothes. He doesn't realize that he's crying until the pillow underneath his cheek is stained with tears, but he doesn't even fight them after that.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Here there be smut! I'm pretty nervous about posting it. Hope it's satisfactory.

* * *

><p><em>tears stream down on your face<br>i promise you i will learn from my mistakes  
>tears stream down on your face<br>and i...  
>lights will guide you home<br>and ignite your bones  
>and i will try to fix you<em>

Kurt wakes up the next morning the way he always does, except that his clothes are wrinkled all to hell and he is in serious need of moisturizing. He gets up and showers and gets dressed and drinks his coffee, going about his usual routine the way he always does. Technically, nothing is different.

Everything feels wrong.

He picks Blaine's promise ring up from his bedside table and puts it on for a moment, before taking it off again and throwing it across the room instead. It hits the wall and falls to the floor with a very unsatisfying _clink, _and he wishes he hadn't done it, because he's not mad at Blaine, not really. He doesn't know _what_ he's feeling.

Nothing has changed, technically – he hasn't gained or lost anything since two days ago. Blaine shouldn't have been back in the picture long enough to make an impact, but somehow he _had, _he'd stormed in and turned everything upside down, and then walked right back out again.

_Once again, Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, you have ruined everything for yourself. _He feels sick to his stomach, every word he and Blaine had shouted at each other the night before repeating in his mind like some sick chant. He glances up at the clock on the wall, which reads 9:45, and winces. He has work in an hour, and after that the rest of the day will be spent in the theater, the very last place he wants to be. It shocks him for a moment that life will go on, with or without him. He'd half expected to lay in bed all day, eating a whole tub of cookie dough ice cream and feeling awful, but life has other plans.

And maybe that's a good thing. Yes, he misses Blaine, and he wishes that he could fix things, but he can't pine over his high school boyfriend forever. Except calling him 'the high-school sweetheart' makes it sound like it was nothing, just a fling, and it was _so _much more. Blaine was a perfect boyfriend, yes, but in the long run that hadn't been the most important thing about them. He was also one of the closest friends Kurt had ever had, and that's what counted. Kurt tries not to be too much of a hopeless romantic if he can help it (Blaine was always romantic enough for the both of them) but even though he's mostly grown out of his teenage naiveté, he thinks that, if he still believed in soul mates, Blaine would be the closest thing.

But he's ruined that, too, probably forever.

Kurt shuts his eyes and takes a long, deep, shaky breath. Then he stands up, and gets ready to face the day.

**.**

He ignores all phone calls unless they're work related for the rest of the day. There is a distinct lack of calls from Blaine, but he _refuses _to think about that. He's doing fairly well, in his opinion, at keeping his mind off Blaine and his own self-loathing, until it's almost evening.

Somehow he ends up staying at the theater a little late, because Derek is running behind on one of the costumes and Kurt is one of the few other people here who can actually sew worth a damn, so he's trapped backstage, alone, with the boy who has a hopeless crush on him. Thankfully, the red-haired boy is quiet tonight, making conversation but letting it fall into a comfortable silence when Kurt decides not to reply. They sit on the floor, finishing the stitching on a particularly large dress, and the work is so mindless that Kurt's mind wanders all over the place. This, he decides, isn't a particularly good thing.

"So," Derek says, jerking Kurt from his thoughts. The red-head looks up at him for a moment, smiles shyly, and them looks back down, continuing his sewing as he talks. "I was just wondering if you might want to get coffee some time."

Kurt freezes. _You can't be doing this to me,_ he thinks desperately. _Not today of all days. _He knew that this was coming, someday, but he's not prepared for how to reject the boy. "…As in a date?" He blurts out, just to make sure. _Smooth, Hummel. Very smooth._

Derek considers that for a moment. "Yeah, I guess. If you want. I'd like that. Or it can be just as friends. It's up to you." He smiles, either completely calm and composed or doing a very good job at hiding his nervousness. Kurt remembers the day he finally got up the nerve to ask Blaine on a real date, one of the most embarrassing experiences of his life. It had all worked out in his favor, in the end, because Blaine found it 'cute' when Kurt was flustered, but it still brings a blush to his cheeks thinking about the ordeal. Derek isn't like that. _Nothing _fazes him. "I think I'd like to be your friend either way, if we aren't already. I don't know. Sometimes it feels like you don't like me so much." He blushes a little, and somehow Kurt feels even worse than he already does. He has been cold to the other boy, perhaps overtly so, but he hadn't intended for it to go that far. He doesn't _like _his habit of sleeping around, is the problem, and it would be so easy to like Derek, and Kurt doesn't want to hurt someone so kind.

"I would love to be friends," he says, a little surprised to find that it's one hundred percent true. "But I… I can't go on a date with you. I'm sorry."

Derek just nods, the smile on his face still big and bright and genuine. "Okay. Friends is great." He goes back to sewing, as if the conversation hadn't been a big deal at all, like they'd just been talking about the weather. Kurt gapes at him.

"How do you do it?" He blurts out.

Derek glances up again. "Hm?"

"How do you stay so… so _happy? _ Even when nothing goes your way, you just bounce right back. How do you manage it?"

"I… huh." Derek looks more bemused than anything else. "I guess I just don't let the bad stuff get to me. Even when everything sucks, I remember that it'll all be okay in the end. I just look for the bright side in everything, and it makes the bad stuff not so bad. For instance: I really like you, you already knew that – but I know you're in love with someone else. Being friends is just as good as having a boyfriend – well, actually, I've never had a boyfriend, but I'm guessing it's just as good – so it's okay. I just don't let myself stay sad." He shrugs.

"What I wouldn't give to be able to do that," Kurt mumbles.

"You can!"

"I've wrecked everything for myself. I don't think I can see the bright side of that." He frowns. "Wait. What makes you think I'm in love with someone else?"

The redhead smiles knowingly. "At the bar yesterday. When you met up with that Blaine boy. You smiled at him. It was the first time I've ever seen you smile for real. I bet he's the only one who's ever seen that smile."

Kurt looks away, sighing. They've both forgotten their sewing, now. He's not sure why he's opening up to the other boy, but if they're friends now, he supposes that this is the first step. "Yes, well, that didn't last long."

"Yeah, I heard you fighting. Sorry." Derek hesitates. "If it helps, he smiled at you the same way. He looked at you like you were the only person in the room. I bet you could still fix things, if you hurry."

"I don't know."

"What do you have to lose?"

Kurt remains silent for a while, watching Derek's tiny hands make quick work of the costume. As the other boy is finishing up, Kurt stands. "I… I don't have _anything_ to lose. I think I have to go."

Derek grins. "Good luck, Kurt."

He pauses just as he's about to leave. "Maybe when we get coffee I can give you some tips on how to fix your hair," he says, and somehow the red-head's smile grows even wider.

"You can teach me how to dress." He gestures at the oversized, lumpy green sweater he's wearing and giggles. "I guess I'm not really good at this whole gay thing yet."

"Deal."

"Now get out of here and get your man back."

**.**

"Hello?"

"Blaine? It's Kurt."

"Kurt? Are you okay?"

"No, not really. Listen. I completely understand if you don't want to talk to me or ever see me again. I deserve even worse. So it's okay if you just hang up right now."

"What is it?"

"If you want to talk… or want an explanation… meet me at my apartment building tonight."

**.**

He's sitting on the ground and leaning up against the brick wall of the apartment building, the bag he always seems to carry lying next to him, his eyes closed and his hands clasped in his lap. He opens his eyes when Kurt stops in front of him, and Kurt can't be sure, but it looks like he might have been crying. He's let his stubble grow out just a little more, probably didn't bother to shave that morning, but it's actually somewhat sexy. Their eyes meet, but Blaine quickly looks away.

Kurt lets himself smile, just the tiniest bit. It seems like neither of them are sure who should be more angry at the other. He reaches out and takes Blaine's hand like it's the most natural thing in the world (and maybe it is), pulling him up. Blaine stares at him for a moment, not understanding, and Kurt nods at the door. He lets go of the other boy's hand and goes inside, silently giving Blaine the choice to follow him if he wants. He's not surprised when he hears Blaine's footsteps behind him a few moments later.

The elevator ride up to Kurt's apartment is, to this day, one of the strangest and most awkward experiences he can remember. They don't speak. They stay on opposite sides of the small space, and Kurt sneaks little looks at Blaine every chance he gets. He's probably not being as subtle as he thinks (Blaine used to tease him about how very un-subtle he is), but he doesn't care so much.

He catches Blaine looking at him, once, as well, but he doesn't have a chance to acknowledge it before the elevator dings and the door opens. "This is it," Kurt murmurs as they pause in front of the door to his apartment. _This is where it all changes, for better or worse. _He takes a deep breath, unlocks the door, and steps inside.

Kurt takes Blaine's jacket and hangs it up along with his own, and Blaine sets his overstuffed bag down on the floor as he steps into the living room. He just stands there for a few moments, looking around at everything, soaking it all in. "Nice place," he says after a while. Kurt snorts.

"You don't have to be so polite, I know what it is."

"Okay, let's just say only your flair for design could make this place look this good."

Kurt smiles softly. "Sit down, if you want. Can I get you something to drink, or…?"

"I'm fine."

He brings him a glass of water anyway, just because his voice sounds dry and rough, and he drinks it all, murmuring his thanks. Kurt sits on the opposite end of the couch, tense and uneasy.

"I just need to say-"

"Blaine, I-" They both stop, and Kurt is relieved to see the hint of a smile on Blaine's face. "Go ahead."

"I was out of line last night, I shouldn't have said those things, you were right, and I'm so sorry." It all comes out in a breathless rush. "I'm just… still bitter, I guess."

Kurt nods. "I'm sorry too. For everything. I mean, yes, you were being awful, but I deserved it."

"Kurt, you weren't –"

"Stop. I know how I was acting. I've been just as much of an asshole as you, even more so – you don't have to act like I didn't hurt you." He interrupts, the words tumbling from his mouth before he can fully work through what he's saying.

Blaine hesitates. "Well. Yeah." He laughs softly, and Kurt can't help but laugh, too, a little. He stares down at his hands, biting his lip, and unsure where to go from here. He hadn't actually had, you know, anything resembling a plan when he'd decided to try to talk to Blaine again. All he knows is that he has to do it, has to try to fix things, whatever the outcome might be. But what to say? What does he even want from all of this? If he were in Blaine's shoes, what would he want himself to say?

_The truth._

"I was scared." He can't bring his voice beyond a hoarse whisper. He feels Blaine's eyes locked on him, looking through him, but he can't return the look.

"Scared?"

"It was really stupid. And it in no way makes any of this okay. But yes, I was scared. Terrified. Of you. Of us." Blaine doesn't reply, and Kurt goes on. "I… feelings come to me so easily, you know? I was a little bit in love with you the very second I saw you – I told my old teacher I loved you before I told you – and I knew that it was too fast, even for me. I fell for you so quickly, and I thought that maybe I'd get over you just as fast. Because that's just how I am." He takes a deep breath, and continues, his voice a little stronger now. "But I didn't. I just fell harder and harder."

"Kurt, you don't have to explain anything if you don't-"

"Yes I do. For myself, too. Because I meant it, last night. When I said that I didn't know why I broke up with you." He finally dares to look at Blaine, meeting his eyes and not looking away. It's really, really hard, but their gazes lock, and Kurt finds himself memorizing the color and shape of Blaine's eyes all over again.

Blaine frowns. "And now you do."

"No." Kurt forces himself to laugh. "No, not really. I guess that there wasn't one particular reason, just a whole bunch of stupid things all added up." He slumps down into the couch just a little, pulling his legs up underneath him after slipping off his shoes, and turns to face Blaine. "Because high school relationships never last, right? I mean, we were so much more than that, we were… hell, I don't know what we were, but it was always so much more than _that. _But then you started talking about California instead of New York, and I just..."

"I would have followed you, Kurt. Anywhere. You just had to ask."

"I know. And I would have done the same. But I didn't want you to _have _to, you know? And I just kept thinking about it, it kept me awake every night, and I think I got it in my head that you would be better off without me. That this wasn't what you really wanted. That you could find another boy you loved more than me and you would be happy."

Blaine bites his lip, glancing away for a moment and rubbing at his tired, red-rimmed eyes with the palm of his hand. "I wanted to stay friends."

"Me too," Kurt replies quickly. "Oh my god, me too. I just… we fought, and then I didn't know what to say, and I thought it was too late… that's such a stupid excuse, I know."

"I've spent the last three years trying so hard to hate you," Blaine says quietly. "To convince myself that maybe I _am_ better off without you."

"I'm sorry –"

"But I gave up on that," he continues, ignoring Kurt's interruption. "And when it comes down to it… yeah, I figured that we'd probably never see each other again, and I'd never fully come to terms with that. But I did come to terms with the fact that…" he stops, choking on the words, then breathing deeply and continuing. "That… that part of me is always going to love you, in some way, whether you return those feelings or not. As best friends – whenever someone asks me who my best friend is, I still think of you, did you know that? Or as more than a friend… or as a chance I had and lost. I meant it, when I said forever." It all comes out in a breathless tumble of words, and Kurt feels his eyes stinging with unshed tears, his throat tightening.

"You know…" Kurt tries to keep his eyes on Blaine as he speaks, but it's hard when his voice wobbles and he feels like he's going to dissolve into a puddle of long-overdue tears any second. "At first I thought I was okay. I thought I'd get over it, because you were just my high-school sweetheart, right, and that _never _works out." He can't help it. His vision blurs and he feels hot, wet tears rolling down his cheeks, and his next words come out in a shaky sob. "I thought I'd be okay with that, after a little while. But I never expected to _love you _so much, or that I'd keep on loving you for the rest of my life."

Before he knows what's happening, Blaine reaches over and takes Kurt's hand, entwining their fingers like they still do this every day, drawing him just that little bit closer. His hands feel familiar, but different at the same time. They're calloused now, a little rougher, musician's hands. His thumb rubs gentle circles over the paler boy's knuckles, murmuring "_Shh, shh_," as Kurt cries softly. It's stupid, because Kurt feels like he is the last person to deserve comfort – he's the one who hurt Blaine, not the other way around – but Blaine is just _like _this, a shoulder to cry on to anyone who might need it. Even though he's angry (has every reason to be, really), he slips right into this role, becoming what he was made for: Kurt's shelter in a storm, his anchor. _We were made for each other, _he remembers Blaine whispering into his hear late one night. How could Kurt have given that up?

"You deserve so much better than me," Kurt mumbled, wiping away his tears. "And I've never said that about anyone, so you should feel special."

Blaine smiles, but remains silent a little longer, continuing to stroke the soft skin of Kurt's hand. He moves closer – Kurt can feel the warmth from his body, and sucks in his breath when Blaine's leg pressed against his. "Yeah, maybe," he says softly, when he finally does speak. Kurt stares at him. "But I don't want someone better." Their eyes meet, and stay locked when Blaine lifts his hand and presses his lips against it. It's so much more intimate than Kurt had thought such a simple gesture could be, and his breath catches in the back of his throat at the look in Blaine's eyes. A look that says maybe; _maybe _they're on the road to making things okay.

"First things first," Blaine says. "Because nothing, _nothing _is more important to me than this. Friends? Best friends?"

"Yes." Kurt nods without hesitation. As if he could possibly say no to this. "Yes, _yes._" Just like that, a weight lifts from his chest. "I think I'd take you any way I could get at this point."

"Glad we're finally on the same page. And second…" He leans in closer, and Kurt can't stop a gasp from escaping him, his eyes drifting closed when he feels Blaine's lips pressing feather-light touches against his forehead, his cheeks, his jaw, and finally one last chaste kiss on the lips. It's simple, but Kurt shudders, unconsciously leaning in closer. They're so close that even after Blaine pulls back – barely an inch or two – their foreheads still touch, and it's almost like they're breathing the same air. He's missed this. He's missed _Blaine. _

Even after such a tiny kiss, Blaine's breath comes heavier. He lifts a hand to cup Kurt's cheek. "I hope I'm not being too forward," he murmurs, and while part of Kurt wants to laugh at how formal Blaine can still be sometimes, there's something in his voice, something ragged around the edges, something broken. So Kurt finds himself squeezing Blaine's hand tighter and reaching up to tangle his fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck.

"No, god no," He replies, stealing another quick kiss before either of them can say anything more.

"That's good." Blaine laughs, a little, and Kurt imagines that he can feel the sound throughout his entire body. Kissing Blaine, touching Blaine, it's like… comfort food, in some way. Blaine smells like spices and tastes like thunderstorms, just the way he remembers. And maybe he'll regret this in the morning, maybe not (he hopes not), but right now Blaine is warm and familiar and all Kurt wants in the entire world.

"I am so in love with you," he whispers before he realizes what he's saying. "I always have been, and I don't deserve this, I don't deserve you – I'm sorry –"

"Shh." Kurt shuts up immediately, focusing instead on how Blaine's calloused thumb is now stroking his cheek. "It doesn't matter right now. I'm here, you're here, and that's all I care about right now. Tomorrow we'll talk."

Kurt breathes deeply, feeling tears sting his eyes again for reasons he can't describe, but he fights them away. "Are you sure?"

"No." Kurt blinks, a little surprised, and Blaine laughs again. "I'm not sure of anything. I'm terrified, actually. But I can't lose you again."

"You won't lose me –" He is cut off by Blaine's lips on his, slow but thorough. He whimpers – he actually _whimpers, _like this is the first kiss he's had in a hundred years, and he thinks it's kind of pathetic, but Blaine doesn't seem to mind, reacts pretty well to it, actually, so it can't be all that bad. He dares to deepen the kiss, just a little, and twists Blaine's curls around his fingers. He feels like he should be afraid, at least nervous, but he's not. Maybe he's scared of the future, of what will come of them in the end, but that doesn't even matter tonight. Tonight is nothing but the two of them.

They stop to breathe – reluctantly – and Kurt stands up, tugging Blaine along with him. It's only six feet from the couch to the door of his bedroom, but it feels like _miles, _and when he steps inside and shuts the door he barely has time to turn around before Blaine presses him up against it, kissing him again, harder this time.

_I never thought I'd have this again, _Kurt thinks, and the thought makes him want to cry all over again. _I never thought I'd have you, see you, _touch_ you –_

"_Kurt," _Blaine groans, low and deep and _hot, _his hands on Kurt's waist and then underneath his shirt, and that small amount of skin on skin is just not _enough. _Kurt shoves him away long enough to bunch his hands in Blaine's shirt and tug it over his head, and Blaine does the same to him, ducking his head down to press hot, open-mouthed kisses across Kurt's chest.

"Ohhhmy_god,_" Kurt gasps, hands stroking across Blaine's back and shoulders. He has sex with so many boys, but none of them make him feel the way Blaine does with only a few kisses. "Bed, we should - we should be on the bed," he says with the last bit of intelligence he can muster.

"Mmm," Blaine agrees, but he doesn't move, just reaches down to fumble with Kurt's belt buckle. He practically growls in frustration, and Kurt takes his hands away, kissing his knuckles lightly before undoing the buckle himself. He kicks off his jeans unceremoniously, watching hungrily as Blaine does the same, and then drags Blaine over to the bed. Kurt lays on his back and wraps his arms around Blaine's shoulders as he follows.

Blaine explores him with his hands, somehow gentle and rough at the same time, as if re-memorizing the contours of his body. "So beautiful, Kurt, baby, you're so beautiful-"Kurt silences him with a kiss, pulling Blaine down on top on him, and hooks his fingers into the waistband of his boxers, wriggling a little to get them off and moaning as he feels Blaine hard against his hip. When they're both naked Blaine rolls his hips, just a little, and Kurt groans and pulls him into another kiss.

He feels like if they get any closer he will _melt,_ sink into this beautiful man's skin and stay there forever. It's nothing more than muscle memory when one hand tangles in Blaine's hair – every once in a while tugging on it gently – or when his back arches as Blaine drags his lips across his jutting collarbone, down his chest, sucking hickeys to life on his stomach. Slowly, because they have all the time in the world, Kurt re-learns the rhythm of Blaine's body, his heartbeat, his breath.

They're so close together and Kurt can't bring himself to move farther away, so he can do little more than rock his hips up against Blaine as he grinds down, over and over and over, and it's not really enough, but it's already _so much _that he can barely stand it. He's sure that he will die right there, gasping Blaine's name as their skin slides together, and Kurt even revels in the feeling of Blaine's chest hair and stubble scratching him as they move together - new sensations, but not unwelcome.

"Blaine – oh, oh my god –" his voice breaks, shatters, and he buries his face into Blaine's shoulder. Blaine says something too, but it's muffled – Kurt hears his name, hears Blaine call him 'baby' again, but that's it, and they're both gasping and breathing and touching and _moving _and… "Blaine, Blaine, _Blaine…"_

Blaine managed to get a hand between him, and Kurt throws his head back and cries out when he feels Blaine's hand against him, can't help but thrust into the touch. "C'mon, c'mon," Blaine says, his breath hot in Kurt's ear, and that's all Kurt needs - three long strokes of Blaine's hand and that's it, it's over, and Kurt _sobs _in relief as he comes between them, digging his fingernails into Blaine's back and holding him tight. Not ten seconds later Blaine _shudders _and collapses half on top of him, breathing heavily.

They don't say anything for a long time, but they don't really need to. There is a calm, serene understanding between them, as Kurt lets his eyes drift shut. Neither of them make much of an effort to move, their limbs entwined. Kurt finds himself rubbing circles on the small of Blaine's back, while Blaine plants tiny kisses on the faint freckles on his shoulder. They're gross and sticky and sweaty and Kurt wouldn't move if his life depended on it.

"You okay?" Blaine mumbles, after what could be hours or mere minutes, but Kurt's only answer is a low _"Hmmm" _as he nuzzles into Blaine's neck, drifting off to the most peaceful, dreamless sleep he's had in years.

**.**

He's only half awake when he feels Blaine slipping out of the bed, kissing his forehead lightly, and he falls back to sleep immediately. When he opens his eyes again the sky outside his window is a little lighter, and his bed is painfully empty.

Kurt rolls over and stares at the space where Blaine is supposed to be, confused and a little hurt, sure for a moment that Blaine has left for good – until he hears a familiar voice, faint, coming from some other room in the tiny apartment. His frown turns into a smile, and he gets out of bed and pulls on his boxers and the first t-shirt he sees – not even bothering to fix his messy hair, he'll get dressed for real once he's had a shower – and makes his way to the kitchen.

Blaine is there, standing in front of the stove and cooking something, but Kurt can't see what it is. He's dressed in the t-shirt he wore the day before and a random pair of Kurt's pajama pants, which hang deliciously low on his hips. His hair sticks out in all directions, which is adorable. Rachel is leaning against the counter next to him, a mug of tea in her hands and a smile on her face.

"Obviously we wouldn't make you pay rent until you find a job," Rachel says, and it's clear that Kurt has walked into the middle of a discussion. "We'd be happy to help you get back on your feet."

"Well, my plans aren't set in stone just yet," Blaine says. "But… that would be amazing, Rachel. Thank you. Thank you so much."

Rachel sips at her tea. "You make Kurt happy. Speaking of which…" She raises her eyebrows. "I assume you've sorted things out?"

Blaine pretends to pay close attention to whatever he's cooking. "What makes you think that?"

"Please."

A soft smile lights up his face. "I really do love him." He says quietly, almost reverently. And it hits Kurt, then, that _this _is what was missing. Not Blaine being his boyfriend, but Blaine being there at all. This shithole of an apartment finally feels sort of like _home, _with the three of them there. The way it was always supposed to be before California and their own stupidity got in the way.

He knows, logically, that one night (hopefully the first night of many) with Blaine will not turn his life around. He still won't be happy one hundred percent of the time – he knows, now, that one person can't make that happen. He has to make an effort, too.

But maybe, just maybe, Blaine can push him in the right direction.

Rachel sees him watching (he's pretty sure she knew he was there all along) and waves at him, calling out far more loudly than necessary (because some things never change) "Good morning!" Blaine turns his head, grinning when he sees Kurt. Kurt's heart melts a little. He can't help it.

"Hi," Blaine says, his cheeks turning bright red. "Um. I made omelets."

Kurt steps forward wraps his arms around Blaine's waist from behind, resting his cheek on Blaine's shoulder. "He followed me home," he says, fluttering his eyelashes at Rachel, who giggles. "Can I keep him?"

"I'm not a puppy!" Blaine protests.

"Yes, you are." Rachel says.

"…yeah, I am."

Kurt can't believe how _right _everything feels.

"How long can you stay?" He murmurs into Blaine's ear.

"Forever, if you want." Blaine replies without a second of hesitation. Kurt holds him even tighter, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck, and Blaine takes his hands and entwines their fingers.

If Kurt could choose a single moment to live in forever, he would undoubtedly choose this one.


End file.
